


inked thoughts

by aurcras



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Cracky fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gaang shenanigans, Minor Sokka/Suki, The Gaang are Friendship Goals, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zutara Quote Challenge, zuko wants to help pls help this poor boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26950237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurcras/pseuds/aurcras
Summary: he trembles in the face of a good confession.or zuko wants to confess, but the gaang are being (un)helpful friends.for the zutara 2020 quote challenge.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94
Collections: Zutara Quote Challenge 2020





	inked thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to my piece for the zutara quote challenge! it's my first time ever doing something like this, and i had been assigned two quotes. i tried doing my best to be creative with it, but i guess it turned into some cracky fluff with gaang shenanigans (because i can't resist and i will write more of them). i haven't written zutara in a while, so i hope this is okay but anyway, do enjoy!
> 
> special thank you to [RideBoldlyRide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RideBoldlyRide/pseuds/RideBoldlyRide) for creating this challenge! it was a great writing experience!

_I do not know what it is about you that closes, and opens; only something in me understands, the voice of your eyes is deeper than all the roses. No one - not even the rain - had such small hands…_

He glances up from the scroll to stare unimpressively at Zuko, who is now pinching the bridge of his nose. A quick scan of the room tells him that he’s not the only one who’s feeling majorly underwhelmed (or confused for that matter) with the piece in front of him. 

“You call _this_ a poem?”

Sokka shakes the scroll in his hand with incredulity fuelled vigour, raising a pointed brow at Zuko. The male in question looks away, hiding his face with his hand, and Sokka lets out a loud tsk. 

“How is the _rain_ supposed to have small hands? And _what_ closes and opens? A door?” he asks again, opening up the scroll to point at specific sections critically. It's as though the piece had given the male especially great offence, a cascade of questions spilling from his friend's mouth before they can stop him.

Suki rolls her eyes at his antics, snatching the scroll from her boyfriend in one swift movement. He yelps in surprise when she hands it back to Zuko, who looks close to burning it to ashes, never to be seen again. 

“Not all poems have to be haikus, Sokka,” she reprimands, crossing her arms. “And _I_ thought Zuko’s poem was sweet.”

His eye twitches, “But haikus are superior! I thought you liked my poems, Suki.”

Zuko merely groans, interrupting his favourite pair of lovers. While he loves them both very much, he’s in no mood to witness their coupley squabble turn into something that consists of less talking and more… _kissing_. Not when his own heart yearns to have the same thing with his own Water Tribe beauty; the coupley squabbles he can already tick off, but the kissing? 

His ears burn red at the thought. He can only dream it comes true fast enough. 

“For the last time, it’s not my poem,” he interjects with a loud sigh. “Uncle recommended I read it to get inspiration for what I want to put in my letter.”

“But why would you want to write a poem?” Toph asks, her nose wrinkling in slight disgust. 

He turns to look at her, the Beifong heiress having monopolised his seat behind his desk, her feet propped up on the desk and resting on his scrolls. While he’d told her not to do it multiple times before, she never really listened. Eventually, he’d come to simply reminding himself to keep his paperwork in a cabinet elsewhere when she came to visit (they had always ended up covered in dirt). 

Zuko shrugs helplessly. “I thought girls liked that sort of stuff,” he explains lamely, already knowing what their responses would be. Last time he’d tried doing something he assumed was a romantic gesture, it hadn’t ended well. 

But then again, he _had_ been doing it with the wrong person. 

Toph snorts. “Sure they do,” she remarks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “What’s next, Sparky? Flowers? Loud declarations of love under her balcony? A serenade of sweet love songs?”

He winces at the thought of turning up to Katara’s room with a tsungi horn strapped to his chest. While being classically trained in playing an instrument had been part of his education as a Fire Nation royal, further honed by his times travelling with his Uncle on a ship, it didn’t necessarily mean he had been good at it. In fact, his Uncle had once described him as being a bit tone-deaf, to put it lightly, and despite his encouragements otherwise, he’d run the other way a tsungi horn came into his sights. 

Plus, he doesn’t think Katara will exactly appreciate her eardrums being ruined by the sound of a dying crow goat. 

“Out of the question. I’m not doing any of those things, Toph.”

“You know, for someone who’s taken years to finally realise his feelings for Sugar Queen, and even longer to gather up the courage to tell her, you’re really unprepared. I thought you’d have thought about how you wanted to confess to her before.”

He scrunches his nose, crossing his arms. 

“I have! But you all shot them down,” he points out accusingly, his glare especially focused on Sokka. He had barely listened to any of his confession ideas before the man rejected them with a hard shake of the head, coming up with a billion reasons as to why they wouldn’t work. He’d almost given up until he found one idea that none of them seemed particularly disgusted by. 

“That’s why I’m writing a letter. It was the only thing we could agree on.”

“But don’t you want to confess to Katara in person?” Suki asks, having listened to their conversation. She had been the only one who liked a few of his ideas but unfortunately, Sokka and Toph had been too stubborn to agree with her. 

“I do,” he admits, his gaze drifting downward. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”

Aside from the fear of his feelings being essentially unrequited, he badly fears ruining the moment he decides to let her know. He knows better than anyone that he isn’t the best with words; his words never come out right, despite knowing what he wants to say. Somehow, he always ends up accidentally offending someone, or they come out in such a roundabout way it’s impossible to figure out what he’s really trying to say.

Like that one time, he’d approached his now best friends, trying to convince them of his new, morally good lifestyle. It had been a disaster of words, and water, to say the least. 

So when his Uncle had eventually suggested writing out his feelings for her instead, he’d found it the most suitable idea. By writing, he can see all his thoughts stretched out on a piece of parchment, no matter how convoluted they may be, and he still has the opportunity to fix it. But with speech… Katara would have to suffer through his awkward fumbles. 

She deserves more than that. 

“It’s easier writing my thoughts down than speaking them.”

“Understandable,” Sokka says, before reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. He looks at him curiously. 

“But if you really want to get your feelings across, don’t try to force a fancy poem in there if you know you can’t. It’s best to just write from the heart. I know Katara would appreciate that.”

Toph lets out a low whistle, unimpressed. “Wow Snoozles, that’s the most intelligible thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Sokka scowls. “I’m not stupid, Toph!”

Before their argument can escalate, Suki reaches out to grip Sokka tightly around his wrist. She pulls him behind her, glancing at Zuko with a nod. “Katara likes sincerity. Everything you've done so far is unplanned, right?”

He nods, confused as to where she’s going with this. “Then continue doing it unplanned. If you think a letter is the best way to get your feelings across, then write everything you want to say to her. No confession is supposed to be perfect.”

“I thought mine was pretty good.”

“This isn’t about you, Sokka,” she glares, “And it was _me_ who confessed.”

As he’s about to speak, she continues, “But anyway. Because it’s coming from you Zuko, it will be perfect to her.”

His brows furrow in deep confusion, staring at the Kyoshi warrior almost dumbly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Toph pinches the bridge of her nose, getting up from his seat. “It’s been _years_ ,” he hears her grumble under breath just as she passes by him. 

“You’re on your own Sparky.”

His friends soon leave his office with a small wave, Zuko rounding his desk to slump onto his chair with a loud groan. He glances at the poem his Uncle had recommended, and the blank parchment he had yet to start writing on, scratching the back of his head. Zuko had called his friends over for help, but all they’d left him with was a stack of even more questions, and confusion as to how he’s supposed to word this all out. 

He shakes his head. There isn’t much he can do about it now. 

So he picks up his brush, dips it into the inkpot, and begins to write. 

* * *

“So how’d it go Aang? Does she suspect anything?”

The trio locates the Avatar by the stables, a brush in his hand as he combs over Appa’s ever fluffy white fur. While they had been busy trying to help Zuko, Aang had been tasked with distracting Katara in case she ever went looking for him. He was the best at acting as a diversion, especially since he was so _bouncy_ (as Zuko had tried to put it). 

He shakes his head. “Actually, she has no clue. It didn’t take much to convince her that you guys had gone wandering through the markets.”

Toph raises a brow. “And she didn’t ask why you hadn’t come with us?”

He flashes her a grin, “Avatar duties. It always comes in handy as an excuse,” he answers before shrugging, “Plus she didn’t want to leave the palace.”

Sokka strokes his chin, taking the news in stride. Aang raises a brow at them, noticing that they had taken longer than he thought they would. He didn’t think Zuko needed much help really; he always seemed to know what Katara wanted, something he’d always had problems with. 

“How’d it go with Zuko? Has he come up with anything?”

The airbender watches his friends share a look before Toph huffs, throwing her hands up in the air. “Sparky is a lost cause,” she declares, Aang glancing at her with furrowed brows. 

“Did he not come up with something?”

“He did,” Suki cuts in, “But neither of these two liked the ideas.” She points to the two in question, both of whom with their arms crossed and their chins tilted up high, leaving no room for argument. 

Aang glances at them in understanding. “ _Oh_.”

Sokka frowns, his eyes narrowing at the younger male. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, a grin of innocence plastered on his face. Aang rubs the back of his bare head, sharing a look with Suki. “Nothing. I just mean, you guys are a bit… _selective_ , that’s all.”

The older boy huffs, “If my sister’s going to get with the Fire Lord, then she deserves a Fire Lord sized confession.”

“What’s _that_ even supposed to mean?”

Suki smiles warmly at them all, slipping an arm over Sokka’s shoulder. She pulls him to her side, squeezing him affectionately. 

“He just wants the best for Katara.”

Sokka doesn’t say anything, but Toph and Aang immediately understand. It’s heartwarming seeing the way the two siblings acted around each other, their acts of care almost subtle sometimes amongst their bickering. Aang looks up the palace towers to the window where he knows the Fire Lord’s office is supposed to be. He smiles to himself. 

“It’s Zuko. He _is_ the best for her anyway.”

(“It took you long enough to realise, Twinkle Toes,” Toph elbows him in the arm, the boy yelping as he rubs the spot where she’d hit. He looks at her in protest. “I know now though!”)

* * *

When Zuko eventually finds Katara, it’s after he’s spent an agonising two hours more of figuring out what to write, before he finally decides enough is enough. He bolts out of his seat like it burns, heading out of his office to quash the urge of trying to find yet another excuse as to why his letter confession isn’t perfect. He has no clue as to where she’s been while he’s been busy, but a small tip from one of his palace staff has him heading into the direction of the place he knows he should’ve looked first. 

The master waterbender is perched on one of the rocks surrounding the turtleduck pond, a small group of turtleducks nipping at her hand as she lowers a few pieces of bread into the water. It’s a sight that makes him pause in his tracks, just beside the entrance columns, as his golden eyes gaze tenderly at her. 

She’s so beautiful. He wonders how someone can look so ethereal just sitting on some rocks like that, but she is living proof it’s possible. Zuko swallows thickly when he realises how long he’s been standing there, possibly looking like a love-stricken idiot, and he forces himself to move forward. He grips the scroll in his hand tightly as he approaches her, Katara yet to realise his presence. 

“Took you long enough to walk over.”

She doesn’t look up as she speaks, Zuko almost tripping over his robes as his ears burn red. He’s standing right behind her, feeling incredibly embarrassed. “You knew I was here?” 

Katara’s bright blue eyes lift up to meet his, a small smile playing on her lips. She shrugs. “It was hard not to know. Your robes make a distinctive swish.”

He blinks, looking down at the deep red robes in question. They’re shorter than the ones his father used to wear, reaching mid-calf as he preferred mobility over regality. While he may have been cooped up in meeting rooms and his office more often than not, he still liked to engage in his daily firebending practices, even while wearing his more regal wear. 

“Distinctive swish?” he asks, lifting them about to try and listen to the noise she speaks of. Yet he nears nothing.

She nods, her smile growing wider. “Distinctive swish.”

Zuko’s gaze lifts to meet hers, and for a moment it’s as though time stands still. His lips unconsciously curve into a smile reserved only for her, so soft and so fond that Toph had described it as similar to a gooey puddle (he didn’t dare question how she even _knew_ about this special smile of his). But he finds that that same special smile is reflected back at him, dare he say, Katara’s eyes gleaming with warmth. 

It’s only when he feels a small pain in his ankle that he realises he’d been staring for too long yet again. He looks down to see a stray baby turtleduck pecking the edges of his boots and he grins, reaching down to gently pick up his feathered friend. Zuko makes his way to the rocks Katara is perched upon, taking a seat next to her as he lowers the baby turtleduck back into the pond. 

A swarm of them begin to surround the edges of his robes and he can’t help the small excitement that shoots up his spine, Zuko reaching out to gently stroke their feathers. No matter how many years had passed, turtleducks are still so adorable. 

He doesn’t realise that Katara is now the one watching him, her knees now lifted to support her chin. “So, what can I do for the esteemed Fire Lord today?”

Zuko rolls his eyes at the title, a noise of amusement escaping his lips. “I was looking for you.”

“Mhm?”

“And I wanted to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears, Zuko.”

Just as he turns to look at her, Katara has shifted her entire body to face him. Her back is straightened, her hands on her lap as she watches him patiently, giving him an encouraging nod. If he hadn’t had the level of control over his firebending as he did now, it’s almost certain that he would’ve erupted into flames at the small, yet incredibly meaningful gesture. 

Katara never fails to make him feel like he is worth it. 

His hands begin to grow clammy in his robes, however, unconsciously tightening his grip around the scroll in his hands. It’s close to being incredibly crumpled by the time he finally takes it out, wincing at the sorry state of it from all his fidgeting. Katara eyes the scroll in his hands curiously, and before he can stop himself, he awkwardly jabs it in her direction.

“What’s this?”

“Just— Just read it, and tell me what you think. I need an opinion.”

She doesn’t say anything more, taking the scroll from his hands carefully. She slowly unrolls it, Zuko eyeing her reaction closely. 

In it, he’d written only a single line, yet it had been something that essentially summed up his feelings for her in the most simple way.

“In my heart, I love her all the time,” she reads out, confusion evident in her tone and as she looks up at him, her eyes wide. His heart pounds rapidly as soon as he hears her dulcet tone bring to life that single line, by the very same girl responsible for keeping his heart solely captive. 

“Are you trying to become a poet now, Zuko?”

He scrunches his nose. This is the last thing he’d expected as her reaction.

“No, it’s not a poem.” What is it with these Water Tribe siblings? Do they even know what a poem really is?

“Then what does this mean? Who is ‘her’?”

_You._

“Me?”

Shit. 

His eyes widen when he realises he’d said it out loud. The firebender’s face burns, even hotter than Azula’s scorching blue flames, and he unconsciously reaches up to tug on the collar of his robe. He swallows thickly, almost too mortified to see her reaction as he’s engulfed in the blazes of heated embarrassment. 

Zuko peeks at her from the corner of his eye, and much to his surprise, he finds her looking at him in awe and gleaming with an emotion he’s almost too afraid to confirm for himself. He turns to fully look at her, a wave of calm now pulling him under. 

“I, well,” he begins, cursing inwardly at his initial stumble. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, Katara.”

He looks to her for reassurance and she gives him a small nod, urging him to continue. 

Zuko clears his throat. “We’ve known each other for years now, and you’re the one who’s always been constantly by my side, even when we were separated by an ocean. And I— I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realise this but I think— No, I _know_ I’m in love with you.”

He isn’t able to fully gauge her reaction not because he’s too afraid to, but rather because he can’t. The next thing he knows, he’s suddenly enveloped in a hug that almost knocks him flat, Katara squeezing him so tight he almost forgets how to breathe. He hears her muttering incoherently but the sound makes his lips curl upward, Zuko wrapping his own arms around her.

Katara pulls away just a little to look at him, her eyes shining with tears. His own eyes widen in panic. 

He hadn’t meant to make her cry— What is he supposed to do with a crying Katara? Had his confession actually been something she’d been dreading? Why else would she be crying—

But wait no, now she’s smiling, even as those tears pool in her eyes. Her lips lift into a smile that shines even more radiantly than the sun, so bright that it’s almost blinding. 

“I’m in love with you too, Zuko, so much,” she blurts, leaving him dumbstruck.

He blinks, feeling the air completely knocked out of him for the second time that day.

“You— You are?” he breathes out, and Katara nods. 

“Of course I am. How could I not be? You’re _Zuko_.”

“Yeah?” he responds dumbly. Is there supposed to be a correlation between them?

“You’re Zuko, my best friend, the guy that makes me feel like a giddy little girl again every time I’m around you. You understand me like no one else does.”

He shrugs, not thinking much of it. “Of course I do. I _want_ to understand you.”

“And I couldn’t ask for more.”

Their gazes are trained on each other, Zuko’s breath hitching when it hits him that the distance between their lips is growing smaller and smaller. She looks even better up close, even more so now that he knows his feelings are mutual after all, and he’s just about ready to finally close the gap when a loud shriek pulls them both apart. 

“There are kids in the area! Let’s keep it kid-friendly, you two.”

Zuko’s eyes snap to meet the newcomers, Sokka looking particularly red-faced as he approaches the pair of them. He sees Toph and Aang scowl at the insinuation, the both of them protesting simultaneously, “I’m not a kid!”

It’s only Suki who seems to show some decency of looking apologetic as she trails after Sokka, her hand reaching out to grab him. “I tried to stop him, but he saw that you two were about to kiss and he stomped out before I could.”

He glances at his friend in understanding, “It’s okay, Suki.”

“Wait a minute, is Sokka _crying_?” Katara interjects before he realises what is happening, finally turning to see that Sokka’s face is sporting remnants of what looks like tear trails across his face. He turns away abruptly at Katara’s declaration, an unmanly noise erupting grom the back of his throat in protest. 

“He was,” Toph snickers under her breath, and Sokka glares at her. 

“I’m not crying!” he shouts, trying to hide his sniffle with no avail. He points toward the couple in question, “But I am happy for you both. Zuko here is a hopeless case without me.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, as Suki clears her throat. “Without _us_ , you mean.”

He nods in affirmation. 

“Without us.”

Katara glances over at Zuko, who’d been watching the pair with amusement. He feels a pair of eyes on him and he looks back to see her raise a brow in curiosity. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ he mouths, hoping she doesn’t find his previous confession ideas as unsatisfying as Toph and Sokka did. Though he strongly believes she’d feel anything but. 

Aang clears his throat, stepping toward the new couple. 

“So are you two together now?”

Katara nods, her arm wrapping around Zuko’s, squeezing him. “We are.”

The pair share a look before Aang smiles brightly at the confirmation. Zuko rests his head against hers, “We are.”

**Author's Note:**

> quotes assigned:
> 
> in my heart, i love her all the time. - f. scott fitzgerald
> 
> (i do not know what is about you that closes,  
> and opens; only something in me understands  
> the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)  
> no one - not even the rain- had such small hands. - e.e. cummings


End file.
